


Temptation Call

by roxashighwind



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxashighwind/pseuds/roxashighwind
Summary: It has been more than one hundred years since Exandria's last big threat, and the peoples of the world have finally begun to settle.It was rare, very rare, but not entirely unheard of for powerful beings to take avatars or vessels to walk among mortals. It has been quite some time since a vessel has been taken by any of the greater gods, but the time has come for one goddess to step into the prime material plane for the first time since her ascension.





	1. Prologue: A Grand Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> This prologue is just the beginning of a larger work that is currently in progress. I'm posting it now to try and goad myself into actually finishing the full work. 
> 
> Rating and Archive Warnings will likely change. Additionally, there will be more characters added as the work progresses.

Dotti Fallowden  
Female Halfling Ranger  
Young, small

Born in Turst Fields, Dotti’s skill with hunting and tracking led her to stray from the farm life so central to the small town. She found herself travelling from a young age, and earned coin by plying her talents with any caravan that would have her. Once a month she would take a few hours to find a trustable messenger in the closest town to send a portion of her earnings back to her family.

Small, even for a halfling, Dotti developed a keen eye for when she would be able to get into places others might not; often she used the skill for hunting difficult prey or protecting whichever caravan she’d signed on with that week, though she’d been known to have sticky fingers for the right price.

The choice to follow the Matron of Ravens was an easy one for her. With the amount of killing she did, it seemed logical to send a prayer to the Matron with each life she took - even though they were animals and many people thought her a touched child for the practice. A close second for her attention toward the divine was the Wildmother, for nature was her domain and Dotti could not deny that her livelihood aligned with the commandments of the goddess, but the Matron of Ravens was always the god first on her mind.

Dotti’s travels found in her on the outskirts of Vasselheim, hunting for small caravans. She was careful not to step on the toes of the Slayer’s take, sticking to natural animals. The whispers and visions began the first time she approached the outer wall closest to the Duskmeadow. She brushed off the first vision of a porcelain masked woman as being caused by too long in the sun and too long on the hunt without a decent break.

A raven sitting on her bedroll, several days and more flashes of the woman later, was a surer sign that something was going on for real and that she wasn’t losing her mind. She worried that her heart would beat out of her chest when the raven sat still as she reached out to it with a shaking hand. It was when her fingers finally brushed the soft feathers that the first whisper occurred.

Several months and three trips to the Raven’s Crest passed until the fateful day came, and Dotti stepped into the communion pool to fulfill her destiny.


	2. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vessel taken and a visiting friend.

Warmth surrounded her.

Or maybe… Her senses came into sharp focus as two sets of hands lifted her from the pool into the chill air of the temple. The sudden awareness of just how cold the communion pool was made her shiver, a brief convulsion in the hands of the clerics. 

“My Lady,” began the one to her left. “Are you well?”

They guided her to stand ten feet from the pool’s edge. Her jaw ached as her teeth chattered with surprising force, and she softly thanked the third cleric that draped a thick robe around her shoulders.

“I am well,” she replied, jaw quivering a bit as another shiver hit. “It has been some time since I felt so cold.”

The clerics nodded their understanding, the two that had helped her from the communion pool humming their sympathy.

She pushed bloody hair from her face, glad that the majority of the wet mass had been placed in a tight braid before the dip in the pool. “Have things been gathered for my travel?” she asked. She looked up, and up even more, to meet the eyes of each cleric in turn. 

“Arrangements have been made, My Lady. You’ll be escorted by a small party selected from the Slayer’s Take.” 

She frowned, though it felt unnatural on her face. “Escorted?”

“The vessel…” the third cleric started.

Her eyes narrowed. “Dotti. As you should address me now.”

“Miss Fallowden, yes. She has never travelled alone, and if you’re to cross Issylra and the sea and venture into the moutains…” 

A soft voice sounded in her head, one that only she could hear.  _ Sian has a point, Matron. Any you would encounter that knew me would be worried if I were found to be travelling alone. _

“I suppose being escorted is not the worst way to travel, Sian.” She hugged the robe more tightly around her body as another shiver made her shoulders shake.

The cleric hid a smile at being so directly addressed, and took a step backward. “As long as you are alright with it. The party from the Slayer’s Take will be outside the temple in the morning.” 

The other two clerics took advantage of her attention on Sian, and quickly changed into clean robes of their own. They donned veils but didn’t cover their faces, and stepped forward in unison to offer her fresh clothing of her own. Sian spoke a word and moved her hand in an arch, removing the lingering blood from her hair and body.

“Thank you.” The shaking of her chilled body made her grateful for their help as they assisted her in stepping into the clean, warm clothing. She thanked them again for their assistance, more a Dotti mannerism than one of her own, and straightened as warmth finally began to return to her. 

“It is our pleasure to assist you in your chosen journey, Miss Fallowden.” The name tripped out of Sian’s mouth, a quick recovery from the epithet she normally would have used. 

She smiled, and asked to be shown where she would be resting until morning. Sian remained in the room with the communion pool as the other clerics lowered their veils and led the way. Her room for the evening was small and simple, an unused room at the end of the long hall of the live-in clerics quarters. A small altar took up the corner opposite the cot, next to a chest of drawers and a small pile of packs that she was told were hers for the trip she was to begin the next day. 

Dotti had used the altar, laid out a raven feather and simple mask that mimicked the Matron’s own, and small bowls of offering. A stack of paper and envelopes rested at one corner of the altar, with Dotti’s scratchy handwriting on the front of each sealed envelope. 

_ I’ve made arrangements to keep my monthly payments going to my family _ , the top piece of paper read.  _ It’ll be one less thing for you to focus on during your travel. I don’t know how present I’ll be - I’ve never been a vessel before and there’s not a lot of writing about it - but I’m glad I can help you in this. Travel safe, and swiftly, and may the journey be as informative as you hope it to be. _

Dotti’s signature was a loopy slant across the page and she found herself touched by the care her vessel had taken. She chose well, she thought, and hoped that things would run as smoothly in the morning as they had gone in the process of taking Dotti as her temporary body.

A raven lighted on the sill of the small, open window across from the closed door. It gave a soft croak, and ruffled its feathers at her.

“I didn't think you would come so soon,” she murmured at the bird as she moved to the window. She reached out to give the animal an affectionate scritch only to get her fingers nipped. “Is that so?” she asked, a small smile curving her mouth.

The raven croaked again, and bit more affectionately at her fingers. 

“I’ll be fine. No need to worry yourself.” She ran a finger along the animal’s beak and into the small feathers between its eyes. Her smile softened into something incredibly fond as the creature’s eyes slid closed and it leaned into the gentle touch. “I should sleep, and you should head back.”

It picked up on her regret, and gave her another gentle bite before nudging her hand as if to encourage her to sleep. It gave a firm croak before it began intently preening one wing. A feather came loose, and the bird offered it to her. 

She pet the bird again, a gentle stroke of fingertips along the crown of its head, and took the offered feather. “Thank you.” She ran a finger fondly along its beak for another nip before she stepped back. The raven took it for the dismissal it was, and shook itself out before turning and flapping away. 

Though she wasn’t tired, she went to the cot anyway. The journey would be long, but she was looking forward to living a mortal life for a while.


End file.
